Dawn Winchester?
by steamfan
Summary: SupernaturalBuffy the Vampire Slayer xover Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's. First fic, so please review.
1. Chapter 1

Dawn Winchester?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If you recognize it, it ain't mine!

Warnings: I'm mangling timelines. This is set after 'Shadow' for Supernatural and is au from the 'I'm not real' conversation between Joyce, Buffy, and Dawn.

Summary: I read a challange a long time ago about who is Dawn's real father. It suddenly occurred to me that John Winchester would make a good candidate.

"So, I'm not real." Dawn looked at Joyce and Buffy with tear filled eyes, hugging her pillow to her chest.

"NO!" Buffy said and grabbed her hand. "You were made from my blood. That doesn't mean you aren't real. It just means you were conceived differently. Like...test tube kids! And then aged!...So you could...um, help defend yourself?" she finished weakly, glancing at her mom for support.

Joyce nodded. "Buffy is right. You are real. I don't like the way those monks just abitrarily made you without any ones consent, but I would feel that way about any child being conceived without both parents consent. It doesn't mean you are any less real. It doesn't make you any less a part of this family. What it means is, you are my granddaughter and Buffy is your mom. That is a bit strange, considering your ages, but I've learned to cope with strange." She shook her head at their wide eyed stares and smiled. "My daughter is a Vampire Slayer. Her best friend is a Witch. Her other best friend is dating a former Vengeance Demon. The closest thing she has to a father figure is a former Watcher who runs a magic shop. We live on a hellmouth and have an apocalypse every spring." The girls started giggling. "Dawn being a magical clone made to hide a magical something or other?pfft." Joyce waved her hand.

At that, they all started laughing from the release of tension and collapsed into each other. Put that way, Dawn thought, she really wasn't that big a blip on the weird meter. After all, Xander had a chipped Vampire living in his basement apartment. She laughed and clutched at her sides, maybe that was unliving? That right there was waaaaay more freaky than a magical clone. "Wait a minute." she said, looking at Buffy. "If I'm a clone, shouldn't I look more like you?"

Buffy shrugged. She didn't know anything about cloning, magical or otherwise. "Beats me, but we could always ask Willow. But only at the Magic Box, and only under privacy wards so Glory doesn't find out about this." She looked sternly at Dawn. "I'm not taking any risks with your life."

Joyce nodded in agreement. Dawn was far too important to lose over such a stupid mistake and not because of the magical whatsit either. She pulled the girls off of Dawn's bed, and pushed them towards the door. "We can go and ask now, she should be there. I was supposed to tell you it was a research day Buffy, but we got distracted."

Buffy nodded and held Dawn's shoulders as they walked down the stairs and out to her mothers car. Willow would know. And whatever other questions Dawn needed answered they would find the answers to. No matter who she had to beat up. Buoyed up by the thought of beating the daylights out of whichever monks survived Glory's rampage, Buffy smiled as they set off for the Magic Box.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer in chapter 1

The kid didn't look like Sammy, but he was wearing a Standford sweatshirt just like the one Sammy used to wear around the campus. John took another drink of his coffee and hoped the painkillers would kick in soon. He hated these visions and the headaches that came with them. Had it been too much to ask that Sam wouldn't get them? The nightmares were bad enough. Ok, they were survivable and useful when it came to pinpointing something that needed hunting, but the pain from the visions on the other hand, just knocked you on your ass. And Missouri said Sam was stronger than either of them? Oh God, my poor boy. If it is this bad for me, Sam probably can't even move. Thank god he's with Dean.

John squinted through the pain in his head and regarded the image of his eldest son. Dean would look after Sam. Of that there was no doubt. He always had. Not the best way to raise him, but Dean had always been stubborn about it, trying his best to live up to his self-imposed image of the best big brother in the world. It had been the last thing Dean had promised his mother, and it was a promise he was determined not to break, no matter how unrealistic it was or what John said on the subject. John had given up that argument long ago, not that it was much of an argument. Dean just dug his heels in and plowed forward, stubborn cuss. Sam was the one who would argue.

One thing about Sam though, when Dean's abilities manifested, what ever they were going to be, he wouldn't let Dean deal with it on his own. That shaman or what ever he had been, had said that Dean's powers would come to him before his 30th year. That wasn't far off now. God, 30. His boy was going to be 30 in 3 more years. Where had the time gone? John shook his head and winced again at the pain. He knew where the years had gone, down the road and through god alone knows how many haunts and creatures they had hunted down and killed. How many people had they saved? Did it really matter as long as they were saved? John frowned, he shouldn't let himself get introspective. It wasted time and he had another job to do. As soon as the pain let up enough for him to drive.

He slowly stood up from the counter and waited for his head to decide if it was a good idea or not. But the pain seemed to be fading to a dull ache at last. He went to pay for his meal, glad that this time he didn't have to use a fake credit card. They were a necessity that he really didn't like, and one he knew that Sam had always called him on. They were too easy to use, and stealing besides. A good way to end up in jail, but what else could be done when the money ran out? It wasn't like hunting things that went bump in the night was a paying job. Ok, no more thinking about Sam, John told himself. He walked out of the diner and over to his truck. There was a hellhound lose in Arrow Rock, and he was sure it had something to do with the demon who killed Mary.


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter,...and John's.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine!

At the back table in the Magic Box there was complete silence. Dawn was the Key. Glory wanted to kill her. Not just use the Key, but kill Dawn to use the Key.

Xander stared at Buffy, "She was made from your blood, Glory is out to kill her to rip the dimensions apart, and all you can say is why doesn't she look like me?"

Buffy punched his arm, pulling her Slayer strength so she didn't break it. "No, Xan. Dawn wants to know. Clones should be identical or something. I've got no clue so I'm tossing the ball to the brains." she said, gesturing to Willow and Giles. "They know magic and science. If anyone knows the answers they do, and whatever answers Dawn needs, she gets. Right?" She stared hard around the table. She might not have been the best big sister for Dawn, but she was going to be the best mom she could be. And that meant supporting Dawn as much as possible like Joyce now did for her. Why Joyce had even learned to carve stakes! And hosted research parties complete with large amounts of munchies! She washed out the results of Slaying out of Buffy's clothes and offered to do the same for the rest of the Scoobies, and ...Buffy's thoughts trailed off as she thought of everything her mother had done for her. It would not be easy living up to Joyce's example, but she was determined to try.

There was a solemn nodding from around the table. It was obvious that Buffy had gone into a super protect mode and the truth was that the rest of the Scoobies weren't far behind. Even if their memories of Dawn were false, she was theirs. And that meant Glory wasn't getting her hands on Dawn, no matter what they had to do.

Wearing her sternest version of her resolve face, Willow turned to Dawn. "You aren't a clone. You are right about clones being identical, and the magic wouldn't effect that. I'll have to check your DNA out with science, and that will take 72 hours, because I'll have to take a skin sample from inside your mouth, because we can't use blood because of the Key and I'll have to grow it out and I'll need Buffy's DNA too, and," Xander put his hand over Willow's mouth. "Right. 3 days for you to do the DNA work, and we'll keep looking up stuff on the Glory front while you do that." Willow caught her breath and nodded, grateful that Xander had stopped her ramble before it could really get started.

Tara slipped into the back room and came out carrying the first aid kit. She handed Willow a couple of sterile swabs and accepted a large book from Giles. While Willow swabbed Dawn and Buffy's mouths for the DNA samples she needed, Joyce also accepted a large book. With Willow working on the clone or what question, someone would have to take her place reading the new shipment of books that Giles had just received. Thank god most of them were in english or latin. She had brushed up on the lastin she had learned during college when she found out just how much of Slaying was really researching. She may not be able to do much for her daughter, but at least she could help find out how Buffy could kill the current big bad gunnging for her, and this time Dawn as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter... and John's

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from either show. If you recognize it, it ain't mine

John hated getting old. And in this hunting business, over 45 was old. But while it may be a young man's game, it was his family's survival. The demon was still after them, and he would never stop as long as his boys were still in danger. He slipped out of his truck and stretched out his sore muscles. He had been driving for hours and needed gas. He knew that the boys thought that revenge was his biggest motivator, but the truth was that his need for revenge had changed over the last 23 years. It had hardened and smoldered in his heart until it had become lump of diamond hard determination. That thing would never kill another member of his family. That it had gotten Jessica was too close. It was after Sam, he had no doubt. Everything went after Sam. It never failed.

They could be sitting in the middle of a picnic in broad daylight on a sunday afternoon in a church yard, and still something would find Sammy. John shook his head as he started to fill up the gas tank. That one had caught him by surprise. Pastor Jim had just about had a heart attack. Dean had been very proud of himself after that one. He had defended his brother. Never mind that it was just a small water sprite. Dean had gotten the job done. The memory of Sammy soaking wet and half strangling his big brother with his arms clutched tight around Dean's neck was one he could now laugh at due to the look on Dean's face as he carried Sammy back to John. The returning hero. None of the other adults had realized what had happended that day, but John and Pastor Jim had. Dean had not just pulled Sammy out of water that was too deep for such a young child, he had vanquished his first supernatural creature. And all because John had made certain that Dean not only knew what was out there, but how to kill it as well. He hadn't had to teach Dean how to get the hugs and kisses from the girls that were there though. That was a natural Winchester ability. And he was pretty sure that Sammy wasn't the only one who had gotten extra sweets from the ladies in charge of the church picnic.

Hellhounds, he reminded himself. Bullets made from blessed silver, shot straight through the heart and followed by decapitation. He had the silver he mused as he paid for the gas and went back to the truck. He'd have to find a priest to bless them though. The machete should do the trick for the decapitation, and he'd need a place to burn the carcasses after. He looked up his list of contacts, hmmmm. Father Donnally in Boston wasn't too far out of his way. He'd bless the silver bullets John had and would probably feed him and stock him up on holy water and christening oil too. As he recalled Sister Kathrine had made a mean chocolate cake the last time he had visited.

John looked out for oncoming traffic as he pulled back onto the highway. Maybe soon he could send the boys through Boston. Dean loved chocolate cake.


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's.

Disclaimer: I don't own either show. If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

Willow had been practically living in the UC Sunnydale science lab for the last 3 days. Having to run the tests without magic of any kind was hard, but the magic of the Key would screw up the tests if she used any. She had to keep reminding herself of that. There was still no luck on finding a way to defeat Glory, and everyone was getting even more tense than usual. Glory was getting closer.

"Finally!" She breathed as the test results came out of the printer. This was strange, but not entirely unexpected, she admitted to herself. She had to get to the Magic Box, but first. She gathered every DNA sample that she had and destroyed it. There would mot be anything for Glory's or anyone else's minions to use against the Scoobies now. She gathered up all of the test results and wiped the computers clean. Ad then she did it again. And then she ran a special 'hunt and destroy' program she had written just for this situation. No one was going to find anything now, she nodded firmly to herself. Her family was as safe as she could make it without using magic, and she would ask Giles to do that tonight.

She put the test results in her book bag and pulled out her phone. It was simple to start the Scooby phone tree, but not necessary today. Everyone was at the Magic Box, even Joyce, Tara told her. Willow was glad that Joyce had filled in for her on research duty, in-between helping out her own customers at her art gallery. As she exchanged a rather semi-lewed conversation with her girlfriend she thought about how glad she was that the gallery was right across the street from the Magic Box. It made it so much easier for Joyce to keep up with what was going on with Buffy. It also helped that when the poop hit the proverbial fan that most everyone that wasn't hip deep in it was usually such a short distance away from one another.

It didn't take long for Willow to walk from the campus to the downtown area, but her nervousness grew with every step. How could she tell everyone what she had found? It was going to create havoc. Of that she was sure. If it wasn't for the fact that she was sure it would be useful in defending Dawn, she was pretty sure she would have flushed the results. She deliberately stiffened her spine. She hadn't done this. The monks had and all she was doing was giving Dawn the facts so she had all of the options.

Willow opened the door to the Magic Box and marched in, setting her book bag down on the research table and waving off Anya's to be expected by now attempt to sell her something. She then very carefully took out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Dawn. She knew that Dawn had been looking up how to read DNA tests so she could read whatever Willow came up with.

Dawn took the papers and spread them out in front of her. Willow had labeled each test so she knew who's DNA she was looking at, but it both did and didn't make sense. "Ok, this says Buffy is my mom, because we have seven alleles in common, right?" she asked checking with Willow.

Willow nodded. "There's no doubt. And you do have a soul, Tara checked. I know you didn't ask, but I thought Tara should check just in case. That means you are a kind of magic test tube kid, like Buffy told you."

Dawn nodded, that was a relief. "But you tested Giles, Xander, Riley, AND Spike? And none of them matched?" Dawn said with growing panic and shuffled through the papers again. Willow shook her head with a small worried smile. "But if Buffy's my mom, then one of the Scoobies has to be my dad, right?"she demanded. "Who else could it be?" Horrifying possibilites were rushing through her head, Ethan Rayne, Wes, some random bad guy Buffy had been fighting with when the monks took her blood?

"Calm down Dawn." Giles said gently. He had also been thinking about the possiblities over the last 3 days. "When the monks made you, they had to use Buffy's blood because she is the Slayer. The basic structure, your DNA, they used had to be able to hold the enormous power of the Key. That means that who ever your father is, he had to be carefully chosen. He had to be able to father a child capable of holding extremely large amounts of power. And that narrows down the possibilities, especially as I doubt they would have chosen anyone who did not follow the light, even if they were not actively fighting for it." He patted Dawn's shoulder as she took several deep breaths. It was at that moment that Glory's minions attacked.

I hate these little jawas! Xander thought as he punched the one that had knocked him over. He could see Buffy slicing and dicing with the sword she had in her hand and Dawn was sandwiched between her and Spike. Ok, so punching doesn't do the job, he thought as it turned and punched him, throwing him back into the wall. The entire shop was in chaos; Tara and Giles were throwing spells, Joyce was wielding a crossbow, Anya was smashing things down on minions heads. It didn't look good, he thought as he passed out.

We're going to lose, was all Willow could think. That was unacceptable. She grabbed the DNA sheets that identified the unknown DNA contributed from Dawn's father. Giles had to be right. Dawn was made from not one, but two warriors for the light. And if one couldn't protect her, maybe the other one could. She wrote a quick note on the paper, grabbed Buffy's and Dawn's papers and ran over to where they were making their stand. A quick spell and Dawn was gone, along with all of the evidence. Just in time, because just as Buffy killed the last minion who had seen Dawn, Glory walked in.


	6. Chapter 6

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't Buffy's clone, she's her daughter... and John's.

Disclaimer: I don't own either show. If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

Dawn screamed. There was a minion swinging a sword at Spike's neck, then everything went funny. The scream continued as the world twisted and changed and was suddenly a windshield in front of her. Because she was in a truck. She was in a truck with a large man pointing a gun at her and trying not to steer the truck off the side of the road. Continuing to scream seemed like a good idea.

"Who are you!" the man demanded harshly.

"DDDDawn." she spluttered, while trying to become one with corner between the seat and the door. She hated it, but suddenly tears were pouring down her cheeks. She didn't know where she was, Spike might be dust, Xander was hurt and might be dead, Glory had been coming, and now some big old guy with a scruffy face was pointing a gun at her! It seemed like a perfect time for a break down to her. "Wh, who are you? A, a, and where are we? Why are you p, p, pointing a gu, gun at me?" she tried to get out between the sobs she couldn't hold in. The one thing she didn't ask was how she had gotten there. There was only one explanation for that little item. Someone had magicked her away from the Magic Box, probably Willow, Tara, or Giles. She wished she knew if they were ok.

John looked at the little girl who had suddenly appeared on the bench seat next to him. It was obvious that she was terrified, but it wasn't to the point of being out of her mind."My name is John Winchester, and you just appeared out of thin air in the passenger seat of my truck. Why wouldn't I point a weapon at you?" he asked in what he hoped was a reasonable manner. If this wasn't another trap, he had no desire to frighten the little girl any more than she already was. If it was a trap, the only thing to do was discover where the axe was going to fall, and see if he could get out of it.

"Oh, ok." Dawn said. When the guy put it like that, it wasn't all that unreasonable. At least with Scooby-logic. She sniffled and tried to calm down. "You didn't say where we are." she took a deep and shuddering breath and continued, dispite her shaking. "What city, state, country, anything you could tell me would be good please."

Well, she was polite enough, John thought. Although she was still shaking and crying, she seemed to be trying to calm down. "Massachuetts, and I'm heading out of Boston. Where are you headed? Or were you trying to go anywhere?"

"Willow." Dawn said, and John gave her a WTF? look. "Sssorry. My mom's friend, Willow. Ssshe," deep breath, "must have cast a spell. None of the others are powerful enough to have sent me this far." She looked over to see John nodding calmly. "And you are taking that statement waaay to calmly for me." She shivered again.

"Magic isn't news to me." John said simply and waited. If she was part of a trap, then she would have a please come help my friends story. If she wasn't part of a trap, then the story would be something else. Whatever it was, John would wait for it. Remaining calm was sometimes the only way to calm down others, and it looked like Dawn needed someone to be a rock for her until she found her footing.

Dawn nodded. She knew that although real magic was a kind of closed society type thing, there were people out there who knew it did exist. And because Willow had sent her here, it did make sense for John to at least know that magic was real. And it also explained the whole gun thing, although she didn't know what a gun could do to most things that could travel by magic. Or was it a gun? John had called it a weapon. Maybe it was something else. It really didn't matter. Willow had sent her here. The only reason she would do that was if Glory was about to win. It hit her hard. "They're all dead." she whispered and promptly passed out. That hadn't been what John had been expecting. A sob story or a oops, can you lend me your phone so I can call this Willow woman, and get her to bring me back, not a whispered declaration of death and passing out.


	7. Chapter 7

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer: I don't own either show. If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

"Where is my Key!" Glory yelled, stomping her way into the Magic Box.

"We don't have it!" Willow yelled rushing up to her. "We don't even know what it is! You've been here before and there's nothing here now that there wasn't here before. So look around and go away! Because we have to clean up the mess that your minions made all over the store!" Glory brushed Willow aside, which had the effect of knocking Willow into a wall, and began to search through the store making a bigger mess than the minions had in their attack.

"It's not here!" she shrieked, and began to throw a hissy fit at her head minion, complete with throwing things and chasing him out of the store.

Slowly everyone still in the store glanced at each other. Without a doubt that had been the strangest encounter they'd had with the insane hellgoddess. Buffy glared around at the magic users trying to non verbally scream her question of where had Dawn gone? Willow just smiled and holding her broken arm went over to the overturned research table. She picked up the scattered test papers and showed them to Buffy. "Could you pick up the table, Buffy?" she asked jiggling the papers as importantly as she could. Buffy nodded and quickly righted the table.

Anya looked up from where she was kneeling by Xander. "Careful of the table, Buffy. It costs money to replace and Xander's hurt so we can't even charge Giles for him to make a replacement."

"How is he?" Willow asked.

"He's fine." Anya answered as she helped Xander to his feet. "It's just a concussion. Giles has had plently of those and he didn't have any problems giving Olivia orgasms, so Xander won't have any problems giving me lots of them once the dizziness disappears. And its fun to wake him up every few hours because he gets this grumpy face." she said earnestly.

"Thank you for that glowing report, Anya." Giles interrupted swiftly. "Perhaps you could take Xander to the ER? Does anyone else need to go? Willow?"

"We'd all better go." Buffy said as she rolled up the papers she had grabbed from Willow. It had taken only a swift glance at them to understand what Willow had done. "Everyone out to mom's suv."

Once in Joyce's car, Tara cast a small spell that would allow them to talk freely. Glory's minions were still hanging around and it would be the only time for privacy. "Dawn?" Joyce asked as she pulled out into the street.

"Willow sent her to her dad." Buffy said looking again at the roll of papers in her hand. Willow nodded.

"She had her cell phone with her." Joyce said quietly. "I've been making sure she stuck it in her pocket if she left the house. We can send her a message that we''re ok." Buffy nodded and gripped the papers tighter. Only the guy's tests were there. Willow wasn't acting concerned so she must have sent the other three papers with Dawn. She only wished she could have sent a note, and hoped that Dawn's dad, whoever he was, would take care of her.


	8. Chapter 8

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer: I don't own either show. If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews!

John looked ahead and saw a rest area. He could pull over and see if anything was wrong with Dawn other than shock. He slipped his gun back into his waistband and smoothly pulled off the highway. It wouldn't do to be raising anyones suspicions now. He pulled into a parking space and quickly glanced around. It was full of people, families mostly. Satisfied that there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary going on, he reached over to Dawn and checked her over. It was a skill he had perfected over the last 20 years, and his old sargent would have been proud to see how well John had taken his advice on getting all the medical training he could get even if he wasn't supposed to be a medic. A few bumps, bruises, scrapes and a case of shock were all he found.

John bundled his jacket under her head and put her feet in his lap. It was when he covered her with the blanket from the little jump seat in the back that he found the papers. There were 3 of them and they seemed to be some kind of test results. Damn, he was going to have to; he stopped. There was a note scribbled on one of them.

Glory's winning She's your daughter Protect her

John was staring at the note when Dawn came to. "What's that?" she asked quietly. John handed the note to her. "She didn't win." Dawn said sadly. "Willow go me out." Tears were slowly making their way down her face again. When John quirked his eyebrow at her, she calmly explained. "Glory is an insane hellgoddess who was sent to earth as a punishment. Basically earth is her jail. I was made by magic to hold and hide the Key. It's a big magic energy thing. Using it is the only way for Glory to get home. She needs to sacrifice me to use the Key. But if she does that, it'll tear the dimentions apart and earth will be destroyed. Anyway, the monks who had guardianship over the Key took some blood from Buffy and some from you, I guess, and made me. A magical test tube kid, Willow says. Then they put the Key in me. Willow ran a DNA test on all of the guys and they came back negative, so you must have been the other blood donor. And now Buffy's dead."

John sighed. Being sent from out of the path of one demon and into the path of another didn't seem like a good idea to him, but if Dawn was his child, she'd have been in danger the moment the demon who killed Mary and Jessica had found out about it. At least now, he was aware of both dangers to her. If her mother ahd just died, she needed time to mourn. Of all people John knew that. He also knew just how hard it was to mourn while on the run. Running from his in-laws threats to take the boys while mourning Mary had taught him that. Idiots, he hadn't thought about them in years. Calling him white trash because he was a marine with no high society background. Calling child services to get custody of Mary's children because he wasn't good enough for them. He shook his head. "How old are you Dawn?" he asked gently.

"14 or 6 months if you want to get technical." Dawn wasn't really thinking at this point, just answering John's questions.

He nodded. Too young for coffee, he thought, but maybe I can find some hot chocolate for her. Most of these rest stops have 'keep awake' stations of some sort, either that or vending machines. The coffee machines usually carried hot chocolate as well. "Dawn, I need to go over to that building over there, ok? I'll just be a minute or two." Dawn nodded and John locked the door behind her head. It wouldn't do for someone to kidnap her out of his truck now. He locked his door as he slid out, both from under Dawn's feet and the truck. He made sure his flannel shirt covered his gun, then quickly walked over to the bathrooms and sure enough there was a lady handing out free coffee and cookies. He turned on the charm and talked her out of an extra cup of hot chocolate to go with his coffee, along with a large assortment of the cookies.

It didn't take long to get back to Dawn, and then back on the road. It did, however, take a long time to get the chocolate and cookies into Dawn. She had quickly recovered from the physical shock, but the emotional one would take a while. "So, your mom's name is Buffy?" John asked with a smirk. He'd have laughed if it wasn't for the idea that he had a daughter with this woman.

"She was named after the singer. It could have been worse." Dawn pointed out. "Two of her classmates were named Harmony and Aphrodisiac." John nodded, that was definitely worse. "What about you? What do you do? How do you know about magic?"

"I'm a hunter." John replied. He looked over at Dawn who was still bundled into the blanket and had wrapped his jacket around her. There was more color in her face now. There it was, he thought. That inquisitive look. She looked so much like Sammy had at that age that there was no doubt she was a Winchester. If I'm lucky, she'll be more like Dean than Sam. I don't think I can take another 'but why dad?' kid at my age. I really don't think I'll get that lucky though. He sighed silently. "I hunt supernatural things. I've met witches on both sides of the line, but I only hunt things that kill people. As long as your mom's friend doesn't do that, I have no problem with her." Noticing Dawn had finished her hot chocolate, but not her cookies, John reached behind the seat and fished out a bottle of water. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "Milk's better for cookies, but I don't have any." He didn't tell her it was holy water. Father Donnally had an entire case of holy water bottles as well as jugs he had given John on this visit. They were easier to carry around he said. There was no such thing as too careful in his line of work. Especially if he was going to accept Dawn as one of his children. But Dawn didn't react to the holy water and John continued talking to that wide eyed look of expectation. "I have two sons, Dean and Sam. When Dean was 4 and Sam was 6 months, a demon killed their mom. She died protecting Sammy from it. That got me into hunting. It's still out there and I'm tracking it now. They're both older than you, Dean's 27 and Sam's 23 now. The same demon killed Sam's girlfriend not too long ago. I have to kill it before it gets another chance to go after Sam."

"Why did it go after Sam?" Dawn asked. She had relaxed a great deal when she found out her new dad was a demon hunter, and not one of those idiots like the initiative who went after everything supernatural in sight.

"Everything goes after Sam." John said in annoyance.

"Oh!" Dawn said brightly. "He's a demon magnet! Xander is one of those. Every girlfriend he's ever had was demonic in someway. I mean Cordy was human, but with her attitude she might as well have been a demon. He's dating Anya right now and she's an ex-vengeance demon. Patron saint of scorned women to be exact. It doesn't even have to be a girlfriend. He's got a de-fanged vampire living in his apartment-like basement with him right now. That is if they survived." She mumbled the last sentence. She could still see the image of that sword swinging at Spike's neck. What would she do if it had connected, dusting him?

John, in an attempt to stave off more tears, hastily handed her his cell phone. Dawn looked at it with blank eyes. "Someone must have made it out, right?" he questioned. Dawn nodded and with hope blazing in her eyes, pulled out her own cell phone. Quickly scrolling through it, she found a text message. ALL OK. STAY PUT.

"They made it!" she squealed and threw her arms around John's neck.

"DRIVING!" John yelled. Dawn eeped and shifted quickly back over to her seat and put on her seatbelt. "Thank you. And what do you mean Xander has a de-fanged vampire living in his basement?" John asked. He had never heard of a way to de-fang a vampire, and who would want to live with one in their basement even if you could? Nasty creatures. Dating demons, well, if you weren't careful that could easily happen.

"That's Spike. He, well, there were these Army idiots who were dueing "research"," Dawn used air quotes and laid the sarcasm on heavily. "to try and do god knows what, on the demons in Sunnydale. They ended up nearly kicking off their own let's end the world party. I think they were doing 'simple' mind control with Spike. If he harms a human in any way he gets a wave of agony through his head due to this microchip they put in his brain. He decided that since he can't be a Big Bad and hurt humans anymore, he'll help out with the Scoobies and be a white hat for a change. As long as he gets blood and violence I don't think he really minds not being the bad guy anymore, but never mention it to him because he pouts like you wouldn't believe. There is no way his sire made him right, because he is waaay to close to what he was like as a human. I'm not sure if he ever really lost his soul; buried it beneath the demon maybe, or maybe merged them together, but he just flat out cares to much to be all demon. Not about most humans you understand, but anyone that he considers to be his family." Dawn glanced over at John and catching the look on his face, laughed. "Oh yeah, it's right up there on the weird meter, but Sunnydale sits right on top of the most active hellmouth in the world. When you add in my mom's the current Vampire Slayer and was raised a total LA valley girl, her Jewish/Wicca best girlfriend, and Xander the demon magnet, the weird list just keeps growing. We've learned to roll with the weird."

"Buffy's the current Vampire Slayer!" John panicked. He couldn't have a kid with minor! Ok, Mary's dead, and he didn't actually have sex to get Dawn, but Slayers never lived to be more than sixteen, seventeen max. 6 years younger than Sammy! Nononnononono!

"You got a problem with that?" Dawn growled. She had had enough of that with Riley and his 'I have to be the man' attitude. The fact that Buffy could and occasionally did kick his sorry ass really stuck in his craw and if John was bothered by that then he was going downhill in her 'good dad' assesment.

"Slayers are kids! They don't live past seventeen! Her father's going to kill me! Hell, I'd kill me!" John's rant was interrupted by Dawn's giggling. "WHAT!"

"First off, Buffy's 20. So; not a kid. Giles, that's her Watcher, is the only father type she's got, and good riddance to the jerk that really is her dad. He also voluntered for the DNA test, so he's very aware of how I came to be. Buffy's mom is super-supporto mom on the slaying front and she just considers how they got me to be a part of that. Also Giles says that Buffy's the best slayer in several centuries, maybe ever. So if anyone's going to kill you, it would be her. And no one is going to blink about you being older, because Buffy's well known for liking older guys."

John can't wrap his mind around the idea that he was the only one upset that he could have a kid with someone younger than his youngest son.


	9. Chapter 9

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magic clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine

Dean Winchester was exhausted. His little (ok, younger) brother had been having nightmares for last three nights straight. The prophetic kind as well as regular type. Dean knew that their lives predisposed them to nightmares, and at least the prophetic type didn't bring the incapacitating pain with them that the visions did, but he just wanted Sam to sleep so he could too. Sam's nightmares had sent them to deal with a vampire nest and two very dangerous hauntings, but if Sam couldn't sleep again tonight (ok, more like this morning, he thought looking at his watch which said 4 am) he was going to scream. There was no way he was up to working and the regular nightmares kept waking Sam up every couple of hours, which in turn woke him up.

"Sammy," he practically begged as he hit the bed next to the door. "Please sleep. I mean it. Don't make me drug you. I will if I have to. I swiped some pills at that last hospital." Sam just shook his head, too tired to argue with his brother. He wasn't surprised to find out Dean had stolen sleeping pills for him, probably had gotten the heavy duty kind to boot. Usually he'd throw a hissy fit over not needing sleeping pills, but right now he was just too tired. Besides, if Dean was actually telling him about the pills instead of just slipping them into his drink or something, he had to be exhausted. Instead he just stumbled over to the table where he had stashed their first aid kit before they left for the haunted factory and searched through it for the pills. After the last three nights, even he'd take the pills if it would stop the regular nightmares. He'd gotten the prophetic kind often enough by now to know that nothing was going to stop them. With the pills in hand and a bottle of water (because there was no way in hell he was going to touch the water from the bathroom sink, bad enough he had to shower there), he booted up his laptop. "Sammyyyyy!" Dean whined.

"Relax Dean. I'm just checking my e-mail and then I'm going to bed. I've already got the pills, and yes, I'm taking them. Too tired not to." he added with a yawn. He took the pills as he got to his e-mail page and then started stripping down, knowing he would be passing out in a matter of minutes. "Hey, Dad sent us something."

"Read it later, Sam! Sleep now!"

Sam laughed and swayed as it turned into a large yawn. He quickly disconected from the net and stumbled over to the bed. Flopping down on it, he was asleep in seconds. The nightmares came, as he knew they would, but distant and vague thanks to the drugs, Jess, the daeva and Dad, and fragments of hundreds of others floating through his mind. It was enough to let him sleep for six hours, a new record, before the prophetic dream started. There was Dad and he was fighting some sort of things, his shotgun blasting small creatures into small fragments. But next to him was a vampire, in full demonic form, swinging a sword; and two witches and a warlock casting spells; and others he couldn't see, all battling a swarm of something like demonic lemmings. Behind Dad he could see a school; the sign said Sunnydale High. The sight alone was enough to send him screaming out of his bed and clear across the room, literally banging into the opposite wall. Dean jumped and fell out of bed, grabbing his gun as he did, looking around for the danger. When he spotted Sam sliding down the wall and nothing dangerous in sight, he sighed. Another dream, at least this time he had gotten enough sleep to be able to deal with whatever the problem would be.

"What is it this time?" Dean asked calmly as he got up and walked over to where Sam sat. He crouched down and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Whatever it is, you know we'll take care of it." Dean knew that Sam needed him to treat this calmly and seriously; so he did. Too many times over the last few months Sam had woken up from a nightmare that had sent them to save lives. Too many times had his nighmares come true for Dean to make jokes about it when Sam woke up from one. "You did take the sleeping pills this morning, right? I didn't just dream that?"

"Yeah." Sam said breathlessly. He was still shaking from what he had seen. His Dad, fighting on the hellmouth. "It was Dad, Dean. He was fighting demonic lemmings, I guess. The weird thing was he was fighting with a vampire, two witches and a warlock. There were others there but I couldn't see them. It was too dark. The warlock was tall, about Dad's age and wore glasses. I'm guessing he's Rupert Giles. One of the witches had red hair and was younger than I am, so I think that's Willow Rosenburg. The vampire can't be Angel, he had blond hair not brown. I don't have a clue as to who he is."

"Wait a minute, you got names this time?" Dean looked worriedly at his brother, new things were generally not of the good when it came to Sam's powers.

Sam shook his head. "No, there was this sign behind them. Sunnydale Highschool. That's the location of the hellmouth. The big one that is. I met a girl at Standford. Her name was Cordelia Chase. She grew up there and had just gotten out. She was Jess' little sister's roommate. We ran into a couple of vampires one night, after a long study session at the campus library. I was walking her back to her dorm. She handled it a little too well, you know. No freaking at all. After that we got to talking every once in a while. Rupert Giles is the Watcher to Buffy Summers, the current Vampire Slayer. Willow Rosenburg is a red headed witch who hangs out with the slayer. They're best friends. Cordy dated Willow's best friend from kindergarden on and learned about what goes bump in the night from him. The last Cordy had heard from Sunnydale, Buffy was still alive and kicking supernatural ass all over the town on a nightly basis. Logical deduction, but what I want to know is why Dad was there, and what were those lemming things."

"Doesn't matter." Dean said and got up to start throwing his things back into his pack. "Dad sent us an e-mail, remember? We'll look at it on the way." Sam nodded and joined Dean in throwing their stuff back into the Impala.

They were a few miles down the road and had food and coffee spread on the seat between them when Dean finally asks Sam if he could give him anymore details about the dream. "There was no sound." Sam said. "That's unusual. There is almost always screaming at least, you know? It also wasn't that scary, more confusing, at least until I realized those lemming things were heading for the hellmouth itself."

Dean choked. "You mean the hellmouth is at a high school? I thought you meant the town."

"Nope, directly under the high school library. What's really weird is that Rupert Giles was the high school librarian, and all of the Scooby Gang, as they liked to call themselves, spent more time there than anywhere else. The whole town is being protected by a bunch of high school kids. Well, just out of high school now. The town's police force is a joke, worse than any small town we've ever been to. If there is even the slightest bit of smell of supernatural activity, the police hightail it out of there as fast as they can. They know what goes on, they just turn a blind eye to it because the last mayor was a black mage looking to become a demon. If they paid any attention to it, they usually ended up as the mayor's next sacrifice as an example. As for the dream, the was no urgency either. It seemed almost unreal, soothing almost. Weird, even for my premonitions."

"Huh." Dean popped a metalica tape in and went over the details Sam had given him. "Where is Sunnydale? And who names their kid Buffy anyway?"

"California, a few hours north of LA. As for Buffy's name, I have no idea where that came from."

Dean nodded and went back to his breakfast. He was just glad that they had made it to the resturant before breakfast was over; it had been close. Details, he thought. Three people Sam recognized, or at least had heard enough about to guess at, a battle at a place Sam definately knew about, and no urgency? What the fuck was that about? "Why no get there now feeling?" Sam shrugged. "What freaked you out so bad you ran into a wall screaming? And don't think I'm going to let you live that one down." Dean grinned over at Sam, who retaliated with throwing a wadded up napkin.

"The damn things were going for the hellmouth, Dean. Not just a few of them either, I mean a swarm, practically an army of the things. That's why I called them lemmings. They were just like a tidal wave, man. Do you know why they station a Vampire Slayer on an active hellmouth? Those places have an alarming tendancey to attract let's end the world types. I do not want a front seat for an apocolypes, Dean." Sam frowned at his brother and went back to eating his breakfast.

Dean nodded to himself, yeah, not something he'd want to see either. Fight at, no problem, but getting a front row seat without being able to do anything about it? No way. Lemmings? Weren't they some kind of small rodent? "These lemmings, what did they look like? And what were Dad and the others using to fight?" Sam glared at his brother, an interogation while he was eating was something he did not need. "Ok, ok. yeash! Just trying to figure things out little bro. This sounds like it's going to take some heavy firepower and if we have enough warning we can get a shipment from Caleb. Wait a minute, what if that's it. That's why there is no get your asses there now feeling and no knock you on your ass vision. We need the time to get the proper weapons there. The first dream you told me about we had enough time to get there and had a whole day to investigate before what you saw happened." Sam nodded, it did make sense. "You done stuffing your face now?" Dean asked with a smile. If he couldn't rag on Sam about the run into the wall thing he could at least pick on him about the everyday stuff.

Sam sighed and bent over the seat to get his laptop out of the back. If Dean was in a pick on Sammy mood, there wasn't much he could do about it except get to work on the research end of things and ignore him. And that meant starting with Dad's e-mail. When he opened it he couldn't believe what he read, even after reading it through three times. "Ah, Dean. Has Dad ever said anything to you, or have you ever seen him with date?"

"HUH? What are you talking about Sam? You know Dad never goes on dates! Hell, he never even picked up girls in bars for a one nighter! He flirts alot but it never goes beyond that." Dean stared at Sam, glancing back and forth between him and the highway. The idea that their father, who could give monks pointers on celabacy, having a date threw him for a loop.

"Well, acording to his e-mail, we now have a little sister named Dawn Summers. She's six months old, and her mother just sent her to Dad. There is a demon named Glory after her, and the demon is in Sunnydale. He wants us to go help Buffy Summers take out Glory."

Dean calmly put his coffee back in the cup holder on the seat beside him and increased his speed. However it had happened, he had a new little sister, and she was in danger. He glanced at Sam and saw the same transformation happening to his little brother that was happening to him. A little Winchester was in danger from a demon, and two battle hardened warriors were rushing to make sure that the demon paid for daring to harm one of their own.


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine

Dean looked at the map and pointed his brother toward a house on the right. The Summer's house. What would they find? Dean wondered. What kind of woman could have tempted Dad into cheating on Mom? Dean knew it wasn't really cheating; after all, his dad had been a widower for more than 20 years. He also knew that his dad would see it as cheating no matter how many years had passed. Sam parked the Impala on the street, and they stepped out of the car as one. Together they walked back to the car's trunk, and pulled out the bags of weapons that they had prepared previously. No matter what kind of demon Glory was, they were determined to kill it. Hanging the bags over their shoulders they marched up to the door and rang the bell.

They weren't expecting the door to be opened with a yank and a tiny blond to shush them. She silently waved them back and stepped out onto the porch. "My mom's sleeping. If you wake her up I will break every bone in your bodies and leave you in one of the cemeteries for the nightlife to chew on." she whispered with a glare.

"Are you Buffy Summers?" Dean asked quietly, trying to behave respectfully. It was difficult, seeing as how she barely came up to his shoulder, but if this was the slayer, she would be able to carry out her threat without breaking a sweat.

"Yes." she said flatly without changing her stance or her expression.

"I'm Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam. Our father sent us to help you with Glory."

The quiet statement from the shorter of the two men shocked Buffy out of her aggressive stance. She hadn't expected the Watcher's Council to decide to help her so soon, much less to send people like these two men. The fact that they were American rather than British, also surprised her. She opened her front door and waited for them to walk through. Willow, Tara, and Giles had heavily warded the house, so if these two intended to harm anyone who lived there, they wouldn't be able to enter. They both silently nodded at her and walked into the living room and through the magical barriers without so much as setting off any alarms. They had no ill intent then either. Maybe they really were there to help. "Your mother?" Sam quietly asked Buffy as she shut the door behind them.

"She's upstairs. She had a follow up treatment at the hospital this morning, so we need to stay quiet. The research party is in the dining room, through there." Tara and Willow were sitting at the table. Tara was going through yet more spell books, and Willow was attempting to surf the net. However, she wasn't having much luck due to her broken arm. Sam, seeing her difficulty, slid into a chair next to her. "Guys, this is Dean and Sam Winchester. Their Dad sent them to help out with Glory." Tara smiled shyly, and Willow waved. "This is Tara and her girlfriend Willow."

"Rosenburg." Sam supplied. "Cordy was very vocal about your skills, Willow."

"Cordy?" Willow asked, confused.

"Yeah, I met Cordelia at Stanford last year. It was the first time I met a girl who just looked disgusted at the end of dusting two vampires. Most times they scream or faint." Sam smiled.

"Oh! You know Cordelia! You're that Sam Winchester? Here!" Willow pushed her laptop over to Sam and began a long and detailed geek babble on exactly what it was she was trying to do. Dean just blinked at the amount of words Willow could cram into one breath. What was even more shocking was that Sam was actually following what Willow was saying. He looked over at Buffy who was shaking her head.

"Normally, we get her to stop and slow down, but your brother actually seems to be following what she's saying."

"Sam's the smart one in the family. I just like killing things that kill people." Dean flashed his smirk at her, receiving one in return.

"A man after my own heart." Buffy said. "Tara is also a witch like Willow. We've also got my Watcher of course," she glared at Dean daring him to comment on Giles' continued work as her Watcher in spite of having been fired. When Dean only nodded, she continued. "My mom helps with research, meals, stains removed from clothes, making stakes, things like that, but don't ask her to do too much, she's recovering from cancer surgery. Xander is our construction guy, he also helps with research, patrolling, and other things. Anya is an ex-vengeance demon, patron saint of scorned women to be exact, so be aware that she hasn't been human for long and it affects her a lot. She's Xander's girlfriend. We also have a vampire working with us,"

"Is he blond?" Dean interrupted.

"Yes, well, bleached blond. How did you know that?" Buffy wanted to know because no one had told the Watcher's Council about Spike.

"Sam has prophetic dreams and some times he has visions. He had one just before we started out for Sunnydale. Our Dad was fighting with some people in front of the high school against some demons. One of the ones he was fighting with was a blond vampire. Sam identified Willow, but he didn't know who the blond was. Scared him so bad, he woke up running and slammed himself into the wall of our room." Dean smirked again remembering Sam sliding down the wall. "He usually wakes up yelling, so if he falls asleep you need to know it isn't anything for you to deal with. That's my job. Also the dreams don't let him get a lot of sleep, so don't wake him up if he nods off." Dean looked hard at Buffy until she nodded once. "So, what's the blond's name, and why does he work with you?"

"Spike was experimented on by the Army. He has a microchip inside his brain that gives him a massive headache if he harms a human. It doesn't hurt him if he hurts demons though, so he volunteered to help us out in exchange for blood and the chance to beat on things. If the non-humans I work with are going to be a problem, say so now. A few extra hands are welcome, but not if they are going to cause more problems." Buffy said with finality.

Dean leaned forward and let her see just how angry he was. "No one and nothing is going to get us to back off until this Glory, whatever it is, is dead. Not sent back to hell, not exorcised, dead."

Buffy smiled. "You really are a man after my own heart." She let him see her determination as well. "Glory dies. There is no other option. As for what she is, she's an insane hellgoddess from another dimension. She wants to go home. To do that she needs to find the Key and use it in a ceremony that will cause a dimensional rift. The trouble is the rift will tear all dimensions apart and destroy this one completely. The only way to stop Glory is to kill her. The problem is she is for all practical purposes, indestructible. We're still looking for a way to kill her."

"So what breed is Spike?" Dean asked, wanting to know what Spike was capable of.

"Aurliean. They're your more traditional vampires. You can take them out with sunlight, stake, decapitation, and fire. Holy water and symbols will hurt them, but not kill them and garlic won't even to that. But on the other hand they don't have the shape shifting ability, and they only have fangs, not another set of teeth. We get a lot of those type around here. One thing though, they always lose their souls when they're turned. Spike is full demon, he doesn't have a soul. He's doing this because he enjoys the violence and it is one of the few ways he can get blood or money for blood. You are not on his list of people he will fight for, so don't trust him to watch your back."

Dean nodded satisfied with the explanation. He looked over to see Sam and Willow with their heads bent buried into her computer. "It looks like geek boy found a friend. Do you have a place where we can crash, or do I need to see about getting us a motel?"

"Well, we have the floor here, Xander lives in his parent's basement with Spike, and Giles has a one bedroom apartment about half a mile from here, or Giles might put you up in the back room of the Magic Box. Your choice, but we do need you to stay close if you're going to be working with us." Buffy replied. "Any of us will put you up, no problem. But it is girl central around here, so the guys might be your best shot for sleeping. Eating is where ever we happen to be at the time, usually the Magic Box or here. And speak of the devil and they shall arrive, hey guys."

"Hey Buffster! Who are our new recruits?" Xander ambled into the room leading Giles and giving her a hug.

"Dean and Sam Winchester."

"Winchester?" Giles asked, pulling off his glasses to polish them. "Any relation to John Winchester?"

"He's our dad. He's the one who sent us here." Dean replied. "Hey, Sam! Is this the warlock you saw?" Sam looked up and nodded when Dean pointed at Giles.

"I am not a warlock." Giles said stiffly. "While I am capable of magical castings, they are not a major part of my life."

"Sorry, Sam had a dream where you and Willow were casting spells, so we assumed that you were." Dean shrugged. It wasn't that big of a mistake. And if Giles was the guy casting spells, then Tara had to be the other witch Sammy saw.

"So who's John Winchester, G-man?" Xander piped up, going over to Willow and Tara and passing out hugs to the rest of his girls.

"Don't call me that Xander, and he's a rather famous American demon hunter. He's been hunting for over 20 years, and he took both of his sons hunting with him. They were both raised to be demon hunters. I know he's been tracking one demon in particular, but I've never heard any of the details." 'Oops,' Buffy thought to herself. 'Well he didn't say they were from the council. But why is an American demon hunter sending his kids to help us?'

"I found it!" Sam called, interrupting the quiet discussion. As they all focused their attention on him, he spoke to his brother, ignoring everyone else. "We have to kill her vessel. I can't find any mention of what the vessel is, but it is a living creature. Her 'living vessel' is mentioned several times." Dean nodded and went over to his weapons. Everyone else stared at Willow.

She grinned sheepishly at them. "Cordelia always said that Sam was the master of research. No matter what the subject, if you found one source, he found 10."

"Any particular way to kill it, or can I just use regular bullets?" Dean asked.

"Regular bullets, but you can't shoot her. It won't do any good. It has to be the vessel."


	11. Chapter 11

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine

A/N: Here is a short John and Dawn chapter so you know what's up with them while the excitement is happening in Sunnydale

His daughter was insane. That's all there was too it, John decided. There wasn't a single reason to believe otherwise. He had shot all six of the hellhounds and Dawn had jumped gleefully in to decapitate the bodies. She was acting worse than Dean had after his fourth birthday party when John had accidentally given him double the amount of sugar he normally would have had. Mary had come close to killing him over that one. She was probably laughing her head off at him now. He shook his head. He couldn't believe Dawn was skipping, SKIPPING, as she threw the heads onto the bonfire John had lit. Dawn's smile lit up the night brighter than the fire and spread from ear to ear. He couldn't help but smile back at her. It was almost like John had given her everything she had ever asked for and then some. If that was the case, John mused, she'd fit in with the boys well, even if it was the scariest thing he'd ever seen.

Dawn planted herself in front of her father and grabbed a paw of the hellhound body he was dragging over to the fire. "We need marshmellows." she said. John couldn't believe his ears. He simply shook his head at her and tossed the last hellhound into the fire. He didn't think it was possible for him to survive this child. He had a sudden thought of giving custody to Sammy and snickered as he sat down to watch the fire burn. "Where are we going next?" Dawn asked, throwing herself on the ground next to John. "Is it home? Or are we going hunting something else? Where is home? Is there anyone else there? Do I have grandparents or anything?"

"Do you ever run out of questions?" John asked. He knew the question was rhetorical, Sammy had been the same way and the answer was a resounding NO. "We're heading east. I'm homeschooling you until Glory is dealt with. I talked to Pastor Jim's wife and she's going to give me a packet for your school stuff. She says that most of what you need for the regular schooling can be done in 20 minutes a day. You can spend the rest of the time on the important stuff that is going to keep you alive. You'll be learning latin at the very least. Basic wards, gun maintenance and target practice, knife throwing, basic self defense, and whatever else I can teach you. Education is important; so is keeping a low profile. Just because your mom and brothers will take out Glory, doesn't mean you aren't a target. Whether you like it or not, with that Key in you, you'll spend the rest of your life neck deep in this crap.

"Home is Lawrence, Kansas. We don't have a house there any more, just a P.O. Box, but it is where your brothers were born. As for other family, before you came along, it was just me and the boys. I'm looking forward to meeting your mom and the rest of her family." John smiled. If Buffy was anything like Dawn, she was going to be a hurricane to know. He took a throwing knife out of a sheath on his belt, and a sharpening stone. "We might as well start with how to sharpen your knives. Weapons maintenance is important, because if your weapons don't work because you haven't taken care of them, it is your fault you're dead."

John pulled her over to sit between his legs so he could show Dawn how to hold the knife and stone in the proper position. They spent several hours like that; with John answering Dawn's questions as patiently as he could, while mentally apologizing to his youngest son for having gotten aggravated over his questions. Dawn was worse, without a doubt, when it came to questions. She was also more enthusiastic about hunting than Dean had ever been, had far less discipline than either, and had Dean's smart mouth to boot. He was never going to survive.


	12. Chapter 12

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine

Dean was sitting in a corner of the living room sharpening one of his knives while everyone else was trying to figure out what Glory's 'living vessel' was. The motion of knife over wet stone was a soothing one, kind of like that meditation chant that old shaman had tried to teach him. He preferred sharpening his knives though. It kind of worried him that everyone was overlooking the most obvious 'creature' for Glory to be possessing; a human. After all, in his experience a lot of demons possessed humans. As he set one knife down, Spike passed him one that was not from his or Sammy's collection. The instant he touched it, he felt his skin crawl. "No thanks." he said hurriedly, passing it back. He grabbed the first of Sammy's knives and tried to bury himself in sharpening it. Anything to shed the crawling sensation that was making his hands sweat. He set Sam's knife down and rubbed his hand on his jeans leg.

"It's ok, Spike." Tara said to the offended vampire. "He was meditating, and he picked up something from the knife. Where did you get it?" Dean and Sam both stared at the gentle witch.

"Got it from that Valnarg we killed last week." Spike said uncomfortably. He hoped he hadn't hurt his nibblet's big brother too badly. He didn't think anyone else had figured it out, but there was no way he could mistake that scent. It was too close to Dawn's. And as these blokes' father had sent them here to deal with Glory, it made sense that their dad was also hers. And he was guarding Dawn while the rest of the family dealt with the danger. That was something he could approve of. Keep the fledge safe, and rip the threat apart. "What do you mean he picked something up from it?"

"You didn't have one of us cleanse it. Not clean the gore off, you did a good job of that. I mean cleanse it's aura. Objects used to kill, especially for rituals like the Valnarg was doing, pick up nasty auras. They need to be cleansed before they can be used by someone who is sensitive to magic or phychic energies."

Spike shrugged. "I'll take your word for it Glenda." Tara blushed as she always did at Spike's nickname for her. "Sorry about that mate. Didn't know about that stuff." While Sam looked at Dean, and Dean tried to ignore his little brother by going back to sharpening the knives, everyone else was staring at Spike. "What? They're here to stomp on Glory. I'm all for that after what she tried to do. No one hurts my nibblet. End of story." Dean and Sam mouthed 'nibblet?' at each other, but shrugged it off as another vampire nickname. Spike seemed to be prone to that. They had noticed Spike's nesting behavior around the Scooby Gang and Dean was determined to look it up in an old hunter's journal he had picked up. The man had been an expert on all breeds of vampires, having hunted and observed them all. Whatever was up with Spike, the answer would probably be in there.

With that in mind, Dean reached for his bag at the end of the couch. Sleeping on the floor of the living room wasn't the best arraignment they could have come up with, but Dean wanted to stay near the Summers ladies. One of them was Dawn's mother, and probably his soon-to-be step-mom knowing his dad. He didn't think it was Buffy of course, but didn't rule it out just on the off chance it was some kind of succubus deal. A have sex or die kind of thing. Joyce, on the other hand was a nice lady, and very supportive of her daughter's slaying. He could see her and his dad hooking up. Be kind of nice to have this kind of home to come visit after the demon was dead. It would even be a good place for Sam if he still wanted to settle down after the demon was toast. Lots to hunt here too.

"I got it." Dean said into the silence surrounding Spike's little speech. ."We just pound the crap out of Glory until she has to retreat into her vessel, and then I kill it. No matter what it is. It, he or she does not survive. I do the killing." He looked around the room. "It's my place. No matter what the creature is, it is most likely an innocent. I've dealt with that situation before, you haven't." Dean went back to looking through the journal. Here it was; Aurliean Vampires. Establishing a new nest. That seems to be kind of what Spike's doing.

"Ok." Buffy said. "That sounds like it might actually work. I don't want to turn over killing Glory to anyone else, but I don't think I can kill something innocent either."

"It's going to take a lot for Glory to retreat." Giles said pensively. "More than what Buffy and Spike can deliver with hand to hand. Glory will kill them both."

"Sammy, call Caleb. He'll get a kick out of us taking on a hellgoddess." Dean smirked, still looking at the journal. Hmmm, orphans? Could that be it?

"No way, you do it. He'll tell everyone, and there is no way I'm going to get a lecture from Pastor Jim."

"Wimp."

"Jerk."

"Just do it. You can ask him about weapons for demonic lemmings while you're at it, since you won't tell me what they look like." Dean smiled.

"God, what did I do to get born into this family?" Sam muttered to himself as he pulled out his cell phone.

"Demonic Lemmings?" Buffy whispered to Dean.

"Yeah. He had a dream about them storming the hellmouth. Don't worry, it sounds like conventional weapons can take them out, there are just a lot of them. Caleb will have something to take them out. Flamethrowers probably." Dean said absentmindedly. This was really starting to get interesting.

"Xander, tell me about Spike." Dean whispered while Buffy rushed over to grill Giles on demonic lemmings. That discussion was getting rather loud and involved just about everyone. Sam left the room so he could get some quiet for his call.

"Why?"

"I'm trying to figure out why he's behaving the way he is."

""He's like that because he's Spike. Bleached menace is suddenly no longer the big bad, and this is what you get."

"Vampires behave in certain patterns based upon their breed. Now we've figured out what he's doing, nesting. I just can't figure out how he got into this situation."

"Nesting? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"He's acting like an orphan, making an alliance and then becoming part of the new nest. Trouble is there is usually a mate in there somewhere. He's not involved is he?"

"Nope, he purved Buffy for a while, but that was one of Willow's spells gone wrong. He demanded blood to wash the taste of Buffy out of his mouth."

"What about Nibblet?"

"NO! That's Dawn, she's the baby. Spike is totally into protecting her, not perving her."

"Yeah, that makes sense. It also goes along with the nesting instincts. He'd consider her a fledgeling."

"As for the orphan bit, yeah I guess that works. I don't think Spike has any childer, he was always too busy taking care of his sire. She's crazy. Left him last year for a slime demon. They'd been together for more than a hundred years. His grandsire is cursed with a soul and that kind of broke up the whole demonic family bit they had going." Xander said thoughtfully.

"Ok, what happened after he got dumped by his sire. He was alone, right?"

"Yep. First he was captured by the Initiative, then ended up with us after he escaped because he couldn't bite Willow. Then we had him tied up in Giles' place for a while. After we figured out he really couldn't hurt anyone he was moved to my basement of doom to stay with me, so someone could keep an eye on him. I still tie him up when I sleep though. I just don't trust him around my neck." Xander shrugged. Spike was sneaky. No one would ever convince him other wise.

Dean suddenly got it, and for the first time ever, felt sorry for a demon. He looked up right into Spike's eyes. No, Dean shook his head at him, he wouldn't tell Xander that he had made Spike into his mate. Dominating him, then sleeping in the same small space, it was a classic vampire behavior pattern. Spike wasn't a fledgling, so his instincts had demanded mate. And vampires mated for the length of their unlives. Tough luck on him Xander was not only straight, but involved with someone else.


	13. Chapter 13

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

"Caleb, send them whatever they ask for. Yes, they're serious. No, it's not a joke. She really is a hellgoddess. Don't ask me, the way I heard it, she's from a hell dimension, not hell itself. That involves too much high level math for me to figure out. All I know is she needs to die, and Dean and Sam have a way to do it. So get off your ass and send my boys whatever they need Caleb." John Winchester was an ex-marine. He had watched his wife do this with her friends. He could do this. It was possible to talk on the phone and braid a girls hair at the same time. He was never going to survive. Dean had better make sure his body was salted and burned or he was going to haunt his son forever.

"If she wins, the entire planet goes into the crapper; got it Caleb? End of the World scenario here. The bitch is sitting on top of a hellmouth. One wrong move and poof, we're history. Yeah; thought you might see it that way. Wait a minute Caleb.

"What is it, Dawn? Did I screw up this braid thing again?"

"Nope. Tell Caleb to give you an account number and Willow will put his payment in it. She hacks the Watcher Council's bank accounts all the time to pay for stuff for Mom." Dawn grinned at her dad, sitting behind her. He really was a great guy. Imagine that, he was trying to talk a weapons dealer into giving her brothers anything they wanted just so they could kill the hellgoddess who was out to kill her. It gave her a warm snuggly feeling she hadn't had since she found out she was a magical test tube kid.

"Ok, Caleb, give me an account number where I can put your payment. Oh Come On Caleb. I may have had to take some shipments out in trade but I have never failed to pay you and neither have my boys. OH Don't you bring THAT up again. That was 30 years ago Caleb! And I more than repaid you by giving you a new market to play in. How many hunters have I sent your way? That's right. And how many times has Betsy's little contributions to your business saved your ass from the feds? Unhuh. Well then why do we have to have this conversation every time we talk? Yeah, you too, you stupid hound dog. If you'd just admit you love her, you'd be a hell of a lot better off.

"Yeah, I just found out about her. Fatherhood I can handle, it's having a daughter I'm not so sure about. Yeah, the boys know. She helped clean up a pack of hellhounds. Nope, she loved it. Spent the entire night like Dean on a sugar rush and then crashed for hours. You wish! Her mouth is worse, and she's got Sam's brain on speed. She's plowing through the study packets Pastor Jim's wife gave us. Yeah. Homeschooling is something I wish I could have done with the boys. Much less chance for Child Services to get on my ass about 'unexplainable' bruises, like I can tell them a vengful spirit threw a table at the kid; or even better too many schools in too short a space of time. Dean would have loved it, much less time spent on subjects he hated and that much more time to spend on hunting skills. Yeah, Sam probably thanked god it wasn't an option. Ok." John copied down the account number. "Got it, You just let me know how big the tab is. You'll get your payment 24 hours after delivery. That's why I'm making the payment, I'm not on this job. 24 hours for the boys to tell me they got the delivery and for me to get the money to your account. Ok, Semper Fi, Caleb." John hung up the phone and pulled out the very messy braid that was so far all he was able to manage. "Thank god you still have a mother to go to for female stuff." he muttered as he put his full attention on conquering the mystery that was putting a braid in a girls hair.

"Ok, that's the best I can do." Dawn jumped up off the motel bed and ran over to the mirror over the dresser. She squeeled and threw herself into her dad's arms. Hugging him as hard as she could, she held on until she was sure the tears in her eyes were gone. Then she jumped into the bed farthest from the door. She then folded her arms and thanked God for her family, all of them, and asked him to look after everyone in Sunnydale. It never failed to bring a tear to John's eyes to hear her thank God for allowing her to be created from his blood. He knew he wasn't the world's best father, hell he'd been more of a drill sargent during his boys later years, but he had no idea what was so bad that his version of parenting got this kind of reaction from Dawn. Truthfully he was afraid to ask. He got up and put up the salt wards around their beds and across the windows and door. For tonight she would be safe. He placed his weapons in easy reach and went to the bathroom to change out of his clothes and into a t-shirt and sleep pants. He fell asleep with one hand on his gun, and one eye on the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter, and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine

A/N: For those of you who have reviewed this story, a great big thank you! Many of you have commented on the shortness of the chapters. This is one of the reasons I can post so quickly. It also is not my fault. My muse has the plot bunny on a leash and the bunny has me by the throat. :) I can only do what they dictate!

Dean had volunteered to meet the delivery in L.A. Anything to get away from Sam's questioning looks. He was not psychic! It hadn't helped that Buffy had given him her stuffed pig toy after that bowl had freaked him out. The smirk she had given him as she did so negated completely the fact that he'd calmed down so fast. He didn't care that 'Mister Gordo' was her baby toy. He wasn't a baby, he was a man. He was nearly 30 years old! He did NOT need a baby toy! He couldn't believe someone had had the nerve to put the damn thing on the dash of the Impala. And he couldn't do anything about it because if it was damaged in any way while he had possession of it, a little lady who he had 13 inches and more than 100 pounds on would break him into little tiny pieces. What was worse, he had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't meant as a tease at all. After all, he could totally see Tara putting it there as a sincere offer of help should he need it during this trip. He was after all going to go get a lot of weapons that had a high chance of having been used to kill innocent people. He was not going to think about it. It was much better to think about the fact that he and Sam had completely emptied the Impala and the only weapons he had were the ones on his body. He spent the entire trip to L.A. cursing his brain in as many languages as he knew.

Sam sat on the couch folding clothes while Joyce repaired the rips, tears and cuts that Buffy's clothes had collected after a night of vigorous slaying. With Dean picking up the weapons in L.A. and everyone else researching the demonic lemmings he kept seeing every night, he was taking his turn helping Joyce around the house. It absolutely floored him how these people managed to balance their normal (they were having a dinner and movie night tonight!) and their paranormal (Buffy was taking him on patrol with her after the movie) lives. It truly was the best of both worlds and he couldn't wait until his dad married Joyce. There was no question in his mind that John Winchester would do everything he could to set the situation right with Dawn. He had given a solid code of honor to his boys about how to treat ladies and not standing up to your responsibilities as a father was unacceptable. She was just what John needed to drag him back into life too. A new baby and a new wife who already knew about the supernatural would show his dad how he didn't have to sacrifice a normal life with normal things for the life of hunting. It was possible to have both. For the first time ever, Sam felt his life was in balance.

That didn't mean they didn't have problems of course. Dean was in tough guy denial about having any abilities. Why was it so hard for him to believe he couldn't have a touch of psychic abilities too? And why he persisted in doing the 'dumb grunt' act Sam didn't know. Dean's grades in school were as good as his had been, and he was an absolute genious when it came to mechanics. Not many people could build on EMF from scratch, much less build one from cannibalized parts. Not to mention all of the other gadgets Dean had built over the years. Dean seemed to think that as long as he didn't freak out over whatever it was he was picking up from things Sam and the others wouldn't notice he was picking something up at all. Sam shook his head as he got up to take another load out of the dryer. He knew his brother's body language far too well not to see that whatever ability Dean had it was happening at an accelerated rate, much like his own premonitions had exploded into their fully active state. There had to be information out there on how to deal with it. Giving Dean a baby toy was not an option. Although the look on Dean's face was priceless when Buffy gave him her 'Mister Gordo'. Sam snickered as he placed the laundry basket on the couch. He was so glad he got that picture. He had sent it to his dad with the caption 'Dean's freak out being calmed by Mister Gordo'. When Joyce looked up at him he just said "Mister Gordo."

"Buffy has had him for years. It was the first thing her father bought her at her first ice show. They went every year until the divorce. Some times I think Hank never forgave her for growing up. He hasn't even tried to contact her in years now. I think any pretense at visitation lasted all of 6 months and she spent 1 summer being ignored by him while he slept around with women who were trying their hardest to look as young as she was." Joyce snorted. "Good riddance to bad rubbish. Mid-life crisis my hiney! He just never wanted to grow up. And I'm glad in a way." she added thoughtfully.

"How?" Sam asked, curious. Would her answer have something to do with his dad? From what he could see, having his dad in her life would help her as much as it would help John. Especially if Hank had been as big of a jerk as she was telling him.

Joyce laughed. "He would never be able to handle the fact that vampires are real. The idea of Buffy being the Vampire Slayer would give him an aneurysm trying to figure that one out. No, all in all, I'm fairly glad things have worked out the way they have. I'll never be happy about the danger, but I don't think any hero has ever had a parent happy about the dangerous work they do. I'm very proud of all of them though."

"I noticed you seem to have adopted all of them. You are more like the dorm mother I had at Standford than someone who is neck deep in the supernatural war and recovering from cancer to boot." Sam said.

"I did adopt all of them. They are my daughter's best friends and not only do they make her happy, but not one of them has had what I would call a good home life. Willow's parents are very neglectful. Sometimes I wonder if it is just absent mindedness or if they really do forget they have a daughter. Not that they don't love her, they just never notice anything about her. She cut 8 inches off her hair and her mother didn't notice for 4 months. I'm not sure she would have ever noticed if it wasn't for demonic intervention. Xander on the other hand, well his situation is abusive. There is no other word for it. And he has no way out in this town. Not until he can move out on his own. I'd let him move in here in a heartbeat, but that boy has a stubborn streak like you wouldn't believe. He'll make it on his own or not at all.

"As for the supernatural, I didn't find out about that until Buffy was forced to kill a vampire right in front of me. It was almost a year and a half after she had been called. I thought all the trouble she had been getting into was a reaction to the divorce. That happened right about the same time as her being called to be the slayer. I did NOT handle it well. I started yelling and before I knew it, I had issued an ultimatum she couldn't live with. She was to give me the very long explanation of what was going on, with all the details and if she walked out before explaining she was to never come back." Joyce bit her lip in remembered pain. "I really didn't understand that she had to go stop an apocolypce that night. Or that she was a murder suspect in the killing of her sister slayer Kendra." Joyce looked at Sam with tears in her eyes. "She chose to save the world and ended up running away from home for over 4 months. I was so glad to get her back, I promised myself I would never make her chose between her calling and her family again."

"My dad basically threw me out because I wanted to accept a scholarship to Standford University. It was more than 4 years before I talked to him again. It took losing my girlfriend to the same demon who killed my mom before I really understood him. I don't think he'll ever understand me though. There has literally never been a time in my life when I can remember not knowing about what's out there. I was only 6 months old when the war was declared between my family and the demon. For Dad and Dean, they had that innocence. I think I respect them more for that than anything else. They saw what was out there and they didn't turn their backs on it. Just because you freaked out doesn't make you a bad parent. It just makes you human. The fact that once you recovered from the shock you chose to support Buffy in any way you could makes you a great parent." Sam grinned. "I really think that the way you make sure she gets to have as normal a life as possible is extraordinary. That's the one thing my dad never managed."

"It wouldn't be possible without Xander and Willow. They told me that they jumped feet first into becoming slayerettes and flatly refused to leave. With them the 'let's have fun with this job while we do it' party outnumbered and overwhelmed the stuffy British 'treat this as a sacred calling' party. They've helped keep her alive and sane for years. Literally in Xander's case. Buffy drowned the first year we were here in Sunnydale. He was the one who performed CPR and brought her back. She was dead long enough to activate the next slayer. That was Kendra. Buffy felt so awful about her death."

"Believe it or not living on the hellmouth has helped too. I spent most of my childhood living in motel rooms. The longest we ever stayed in one place was about 8 months when I was about 11. In fact, one year we moved 12 different times, and that's not including the summers we spent on the road." Sam told Joyce, watching her eyes widen in surprise. "I still managed to get a full ride to Standford. Dad was always stressing the importance of education. Even if Dean insists the only Latin he knows is the exorcisms, don't believe him. I think he has a bad memory of a teacher to tell the truth. I seem to remember a loud argument about a history paper and his notes being written in Latin so a bully couldn't copy them." Sam smiled at Joyce, who was now staring at him in shock. "Never buy his 'dumb grunt' act, Joyce. He's a lot like Buffy that way. I've seen her pull her dumb blond act out." Joyce laughed and nodded. Buffy's dumb blond routine was brilliant. No one who saw it could ever believe she had a single brain cell in her entire head.

Buffy walked in during this exchange and huffed at them both. "I'll have you know my dumb blond act is exceptionally good. Dean on the other hand is far to sure of himself to ever pull off the 'dumb grunt' roll." She picked up her laundry with exaggerated dignity and said over her shoulder at the 2 people laughing on the couch, "Giles has found this year's prophecy for our yearly apocalypse. If you want to be informed, everyone is gathered in the dining room." Then she ran off to put her clothes away. She was pleased that Sam had managed to make her mother laugh. It was something she did too seldom these days.

Sam stood up and offered Joyce his arm. She took it to help steady herself against her giggles as he escorted her to the dining room.

John opened his e-mail and started laughing. Dawn looked up from her math assignment and demanded to know what was so funny. He waved her over to where she could see the picture Sam had sent him and explained that the man in it was her brother Dean. "Well the pig is Mom's. She's had it forever. If she's given it to Dean, they're getting along well. It is one of the few things her dad gave her that she still has. He's pretty much ruined the memories for everything else." John nodded, and continued to smile at the look on Dean's face. He didn't know what Dean had been upset about, but if Sam and Buffy were teasing him like this, it couldn't be too bad.

Dean stood polishing his Impala in a secluded parking lot. It wouldn't be long before the delivery truck arrived and he wanted to spend the time doing something useful and had the added value of being something the cops would look at as normal and harmless. He had hidden Mister Gordo in the pocket of his jacket. It would stay safe there and if he needed it (he hoped like hell he wouldn't!) he could get to it quickly. He really didn't want to believe he was now hooked up to the psychic hotline. That was Sam's gig. He was already dealing with one totally freaky life-changing event. A little baby sister! The fact that a hellgoddess had tried to kill her was actually the most normal aspect of that situation. He did not need another.

He patted the Impala's hood. At least she never gave off any skin crawling vibes. Nope, just a warm homey feeling. He stood straight up in shock. NO! Not his car too! Not his baby! This car had been his since he could talk. It was one of the few stories his dad would tell from Before. Mom had carried him out to meet Dad after work one day and as she kissed him, Dean (who was all of 2 years old at the time) had leaned over, patted the car and said very clearly and loudly "MY CAR!" John had laughed and promised that when he was old enough he could have the car. His dad had kept that old promise. When Dean was 15, John had gotten a job with a garage in Denver. He had picked up a truck body for literally next to nothing and had spent 6 months completely rebuilding it. He had tricked that truck out into the ultimate hunter's rig. The minute it was done, and the same day Dean had gotten his first drivers license, he had handed the keys of the Impala over to Dean. What was he going to do now?

The delivery truck arrived then and Dean went through the motions of accepting the delivery by rote. The smartassed comments and attitude flowed out of his mouth without any input from his brain. It was totally automatic. Not even loading up the Impala with all of the boxes of grenades and rockets in the trunk and putting Caleb's special presents in the back and passenger seats woke him up from his shock. What did, was the Impala itself. Sitting in the driver's seat, surrounded by weapons of extreme, if not mass, destruction, Dean could feel a sensation of satisfied expectation crawling over him. Some how the Impala knew, he thought. Had it been possessed? Nope, he shook his head, there were too many warding charms etched and ground into its parts and body. He guessed it was just an effect of having been exposed to so much magic and so many ghosts and the like over the last 20 years. The car wasn't able to think (not like that bowl had UGH!) but it, she he corrected himself, was aware. "That's right baby." Dean said as he finally calmed down. "We've got the stuff and its time to go kick a hellgoddess' ass. Nobody gets away with trying to kill a Winchester, especially a baby Winchester. We're a deadly bunch, just like the rifle."


	15. Chapter 15

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn isn't a magicl clone, she's Buffy's daughter and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

John sat up with a stifled yell, his gun already in hand and sweeping the motel room. Dawn was sitting at the table eating a piece of fruit from the bag of snacks John had stocked up on. She had noticed that although they ate at a lot of diners and fast food places, John always insisted they eat as healthy as possible. For her, he insisted on no sugar whatsoever. She didn't know where that came from. She froze as she saw the gun. She knew that John would never shoot her, but she had made the mistake of charging into Buffy's room and jumping on her bed to wake her mom up. It had only taken that one time (and the early morning trip to the ER) to teach her to wait until a warrior was awake before speaking or touching. You never knew what they had been dreaming about, after all their lives were the things nightmares were made of. When he put the gun down and scrubbed his face with both hands, she knew he had woken up. "Nightmare or Slayer Dream?" she asked, finishing her banana. If it had been Buffy she would defiantly have said Slayer Dream, but with John she wasn't sure of the signs signaling the difference.

"What?" John asked. Although he knew what a nightmare was, (shit his whole family had enough of them) he had never heard of a Slayer Dream. Was that a code phrase for fighting supernatural monsters in your sleep? He got out of bed and started his daily exercises; 200 push-ups, 200 sit-ups, and then another 200 push-ups. Some might have considered it excessive, but they didn't have to fight things that were 4 or more times stronger than they were and dig graves the same night.

"Slayer Dream." Dawn repeated as she watched her dad do his push-ups. She had already done hers, well she had done a few at least. "The PTB's send slayers dreams to tell them when something big is coming. Bigger than usual anyway. New nest moving into town,no; end of the world coming, yes. doyle, he gets visions though. They're real sledge hammers, wes says. Those show him where there is a current threat that the PTB's want Angel to take care of and what it is." Dawn saw her father freeze mid-push-up and wondered what was wrong. She grabbed her knife and started searching the room for whatever the danger was that he had noticed and she hadn't. Then she saw that he wasn't going for his weapons, he was staring at her.

"PTB's?"

"The Powers That Be. They are the ones in charge of the good guys. They chose and call the slayers, and I know that they do a bunch of other stuff, but I don't know what it is. I only know things from the slayer end." She figured if she had her knife out she might as well sharpen it.

When John staarted cursing quietly as he resumed his push-ups, Dawn glared at him but then shrugged. He made her do extra push-ups for swearing but he was doing push-ups while he was swearing so she figured that counted. John couldn't believe he'd been being ordered around by angels (or whatever they were) for 23 years and never knew it. At least he now knew where the nightmares and visions came from and why. Being one of God's soldiers wasn't a bad thing, even if the messeage system sucked. After he finished his exercises, he ordered Dawn to finish hers while he took his shower. He knew Dawn well enough by know she hadn't finished her 10 push-ups, 10 sit-ups, and 10 push-ups routine, even if they were modified. He chuckled as he watched Dawn give him the full put upon teenager drill, complete with rolled eyes, heaving sigh, and slumped shoulders. He knew that she was eager enough to hunt that she wasn't giving him half the amount of grief she could be. He had also found out that if he just told her to do something, there was a good chance she'd give him major grief. She was far too much like Sam in that respect. It had taken him 4 years of silence and the worry and agony in both Dean's eyes and his own for him to figure out where he had gone wrong with Sam, and in many ways Dean as well. For Sam, and now Dawn too it seemed, needed the reasons why before they could give themselves to something. Dean had trusted that he would eventually get the answers. But he had stopped giving them. He had become a drill sargent. How could he have forgotten that drill sargents were for training not operations? Operations needed leaders, and leaders shared intel when they could. They didn't just shout orders. Now that he had Dawn he HAD to remember that. At least he could see the difference it made with Dawn. Was it too much to hope it would make a difference when he saw Sam again? When he stepped out of the bathroom he could see Dawn attempting a flat handed, unmodified push-up. He had explained to her why he did his exercises and also showed her that he really did do them every morning. He wasn't telling her to do what he said and not what he did. The difference in his approach was visible in the determination on her face, as she shakily completed the push-up. And in the ear to ear grin he received.

"The answer to your question," he said as he sat down to pull on his steel toed boots. "Is a Slayer Dream, and thank you for telling me where they come from. All I've had for years was bad theories about them. Your brothers are in trouble. Does Glory have any cannon fodder types?"

"Yep. Minions. They look like Jawas, only you can see their faces and man they are uggllyy!" Dawn flopped down on her bed and groaned. Maybe trying push-ups the way Riley did them was a mistake. If they made her arms ache this much how bad would the ones her dad did, pushing with fists, feel?

"How many did you do like that?" John asked, smiling. She really reminded him of his boys sometimes, but her energy and upbeat enthusiasm for nearly everything was purely her own. Dawn waved 3 fingers at him and groaned again. "It wasn't Glories minions then. These were more like giant groundhogs. Maybe 3 feet long? There was a swarm of them trying to get past the boys. There was a tiny little blond blowing the things to shreds with a couple of uzi's, but I couldn't see anyone else. They were at what looked like a construsction site. A school maybe." John looked over at her to see how much of her groaning was for effect and how much was really pain. Not much pain, he decided, but she was going to be sore for the rest of the morning. Her upper body strength wasn't something she had ever worked on before.

"Tiny blond?" Dawn perked up and sat up. "That's Mom. She doesn't weigh 100 pounds soaking wet, although you'd better not mention her shortness, ever. She loves weapons. The more destructive the better. For her 17th birthday, Xander gave her a rocket launcher. Of course Giles has forbidden her to touch it unless its absolutely necessary. I think she wished she could use it on her high school principal once where he could hear her or something."

"We'll head for California now then. We'll stay in L.A. until we get the all clear from the boys. We want to be close enough to help with the swarm of demon groundhogs, but far enough away that we don't attract Glory's attention. We don't want to interfere. Just be close enough to lend our support if necessary." John looked sternly at Dawn. "That means no contact. I know I've said this before, but sending I'm ok texts is all you can do. No phone calls, no e-mails, no getting close, nothing. No telling where you are or who you're with. Dawn," he said looking her right in the eyes. "I know you want to talk to them. I want to talk to your brothers very badly. But , if we say anything about where we are, even if we don't realize it, we'll have Glory taking off after us. And it is very, very easy to leave tiny clues to your location and identity even when you're just talking about the weather. That's how pedophiles track kids on the internet. And I've had demons track me every time I've called your brothers." Dawn nodded. She knew her dad was right. She also knew she couldn't distract anyone in Sunnydale because Glory was so very dangerous. The I'm ok text she sent every day to one of the Scoobies and never the same one twice in a row, would allow them to concentrate on their safety rather than hers. John sat down on the bed next to her and gave her a hug.

Dawn just wished she could tell someone that her dad had taken her hunting hellhounds. That way Buffy (it was still hard to call Buffy Mom in her head even with all of the practice she had been getting) would explode without her or her dad being in the area. Buffy, MOM she reminded herself again, wouldn't even let her patrol when all she was looking for was fledges and she already knew the location of the grave. Even though all she had done was clean up with the hellhounds, Mom was still going to be mad. Maybe if they stayed with Angel in L.A., he could break the news to her. He had that huge hotel too. Even if it wasn't fixed up, it had to be better than the place they were staying now, she thought looking around at the truly bizarre decorations. She hadn't told John that she recognized the owner as a harmless demon type. But it really showed in how the rooms looked, major 'human culture' cheese!

"Can we stay with Angel? You should know that he's an Aurliean Vampire who was cursed with the return of his soul. He runs a detective agency in L.A. out of a huge hotel. The 2 guys who work for him, Wes and Doyle? Well, Wes is an ex-watcher. Long story, but basically he told the watcher's council that they were wrong to fire Giles, not that Giles ever stopped Watching for Buffy! And they fired him for it Doyle is half Braken Demon. They are a mostly harmless bunch. Doyle is the one with the visions. Can I tell Angel about the hellhounds? That way he can tell Buffy and we won't get into too much trouble. Oh, and you should know that Angel is Buffy's ex. They're only exes because the curse has this happiness clause that says perfect happiness and you lose your soul. Well, they had a happy, and he did, and let me tell you! Angelus (that's the demon) he's a total creep! He's into mind games and he drove his childer mad. Did I tell you he's Spike's grandsire?" Dawn babbled through packing up and the next hundred miles, giving John the story surrounding the Scooby gang, Angel/Angelus, Drusilla the Mad and Spike. John thought she was trying to distract him from the mention of getting into trouble for the hellhounds. It was then that he understood why she had been so excited to help. It seemed that her family was extreamely overprotective of her, and everyone except for her grandmother was directly in the line of fire, even his side. Well, if being there when he shot the hellhounds from an ambush and letting her chop their heads off after they were down and not moving upset them, he'd deal with it. She had to get her feet wet sometime, evil wasn't going to leave her alone, no matter what anybody wanted for her.


	16. Chapter 16

Dawn Winchester?

Summary: Dawn is not a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter and John's

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

Wesley Wyndham Pryce sat at his desk in the Hyperion Lobby and wondered how Buffy and the others were going to prevent the apocalypse this time. A swarm of Hectalik demons was nothing to scoff at, although the picture of a single one had Doyle and Gunn in stitches. He had to admit that singly they were very amusing and easily killed. How ever a swarm was an entirely different matter. They were similar to locusts or army ants, only what they 'ate' changed every thousand years or so to focus exclusively upon the energy produced by a hellmouth. If allowed into the location where a hellmouth resided, the swarm both opened and clogged it. And once the demons on the other side cleared the 'clog' by eating the Hectalik, that left the hellmouth open. Willow said that Mr. Dean Winchester had obtained some modern weapons that should help, but it was still going to be a nearly impossible job all the same.

Wesley had studied the American Demon Hunters, those who were good enough to make a name for themselves that is. He had heard of the famous hunting family. Mr. John Winchester was an ex-marine (American of course, he was sure that British Marines were better trained) and very competant at adapting modern weapons for demonic combat. Mr. Dean Winchester appeared to be following in his father's footsteps, an admirable quality in an eldest son. And Mr. Samuel Winchester, the youngest of the three was well known for having performed successful exorsisms at the incredibly young age of 10 years old. Willow reported that he was an increadible researcher as well, able to find the most obscure references. He hoped that the two members of the notoriously nomadic family would stay long enough for him to meet them. He truely admired the tales of their exploits.

The front door to the Hyperion opened and the 3 men instantly focused their attentions there. What they saw shocked them. Dawn Summers, who should have been in Sunnydale. She wasn't with any of her family. Instead she was with a large man who gave the appearance of a laid back lumberjack. However, they could see that this man was a warrior. He had instantly identified Gunn as the most physically dangerous of the men in the room, but was taking no chances with either of the other 2. Dawn was safely tucked behind and to one side until she shoved him aside and ran over to Wesley. "Wes!" Dawn cried and grabbed him in a bear hug. She whispered in his ear, "I've got information of the 'you can be tortured if anyone thinks you know it' type. Angel needs to know it."

"Right. Doyle, go get Angel. Gunn, the young lady has information that you'd probably rather not know. I believe it involves Sunnydale exclusively?" Wesley directed the question to Dawn. She nodded, that was the simplest way to put it. Doyle nodded and ran off.

"If that's the case, I really don't want to know." Gunn said, holding his hands up and walking backwards toward the doors. He kept the big white guy in his sight at all times, a favor the man returned. "English, give me a call if it turns out I need to know or if it goes beyond little Sunnyhell. Catch you later." and he left.

Angel walked in with Doyle as the door closed and he immediately swept Dawn up in a hug. Wesley, who was the only one watching the stranger, noticed how tense he got and the aborted movement for a weapon the moment Angel touched Dawn. Wesley had no doubt that had Dawn not welcomed the contact the man would have exploded into violence. Personally he really did not wish to put the man to the test.

"Dawn come here and sit down. What's wrong?" Angel's attention was exclusively on Dawn. The man he dismissed as some kind of bodyguard as there was no way Buffy would have sent Dawn here alone. As she was here without her sister, or any of her sister's friends, Angel was worried. He gently set her down on one of the couches and knelt down in front of her.

"Long story short. Everything you think you know about me and every memory you have of me is fake. I'm a magical test tube kid. I was made to hold and hide the Key Glory is looking for. Buffy is my mom, not my sister. This is my dad." Angel turned to look at the man standing protectively over Dawn.

"Angel." he said shortly, holding out his hand.

"John Winchester." John took his hand, looking him over. He knew he wouldn't be able to see any sign of the demon, but he did wonder about the man Dawn said was such a good friend to her family.

Wesley gaped in astonishment. This was the man he had tried to model himself after in his short stint as a rouge demon hunter? He was Dawn's father? Well that at least explained why his sons were helping Buffy to defeat Glory. Oh dear. Buffy. "Dawn, why don't Doyle and I help you unload you father's vehicle? We can put the 2 of you in a couple of the rooms upstairs. You'll be staying with us of course until Glory is dealt with. That shouldn't be too long of course. Angel and your father can discuss things in his office." Wesley grabbed each of them by the hand and dragged them out the door while giving his little speach. He did NOT want to be part of THAT discussion. John was even more formidable in person than he was in the stories, and Angel. Well, Wesley could only hope that Angel would keep in control of himself. He saw Angel motion Mr. Winchester towards the office as they left.

"What's that all about?" Doyle cried as soon as they had left the building.

"Do you really want to be involved when Angel is dealing with the man who fathered a child with his slayer?" Wesley demanded. Doyle just blanched and moved quickly over to the black truck that was the only new vehicle in sight. "I thought not."

Dawn just shook her head. She knew Angel wouldn't take the news well but she had hopes for a better response from him than these 2 were predicting. After all, she had said magical test tube kid. It was totally the monks fault. After all, her parents had never even met.

Angel waited until they were both in his office and he had closed the door before grabbing John by the throat and slaming him into the wall. It wasn't until he had leaned forward that he realized John had a gun pointed at his heart. He dismissed the gun as unimportant and focused on what was. "What are your intentions?" he growled, trying to keep his demon from showing.

John knew he was dealing not only with a vampire who would feel that his mate had been violated, but a man whose morales had been shaped 200 years previous. It was not a safe place to be. That was why his gun was loaded with special magnisium rounds. If he couldn't talk his way out, well, self-defense. "Dawn is my daughter. I didn't help make her, I didn't even know it was possible she exisisted. That doesn't matter. She's my daughter. Her mother and I, who I haven't even met yet, by the way, will have to work things out between us. But there is no way I'm going let Dawn lose either of us before she has to. We both fight what's out there and someday something will be to much for us. But until then, I'm going to make sure we're both here for her."

"And Buffy?" Angel asked, not giving an inch.

"I'm not stupid enough to try and force a slayer into a shotgun wedding." John answered with a huff and a 'did you really think I am?' look on his face. "That doesn't mean I won't offer if it's what she wants. I plan on getting her a ring just in case."

Angel nodded. It was the best he could hope for under the circumstances. He nodded at the gun John put away as he let go and went to sit behind his desk. "What kind of ammunition do you have in that thing?"


	17. Chapter 17

It was time. Willow had paid Caleb, the weapons had been practiced with, and the ambush spot had been picked out. All that was left was to go over the plan one more time. Dean was acting as the general, he was the one who was going to have to kill an innocent, creature, person, whatever, and Buffy was more than willing to hand the responsibility of that over to him. She wasn't happy about not being in charge, but she didn't want to have to order him to do it either. At least he knew how to do it right; listen to the watcher types, listen to the people who knew the area, and listen to Xander when it came to group tactics. It didn't mean he took all of their suggestions, but at least he listened.

Dean leaned over the map spread out on the research table. It showed a park close to the building that Glory had taken over as her temple. "Ok, ladies. You do your imitation Key thing here. You sure you can do it well enough to get Glory's attention?" Tara and Willow nodded. Tara having checked Dawn for her soul, had gotten a good look at what the Key's energies felt like. They would be fairly easy to fake. "This may sound stupid, but make sure you keep up the bait until Glory is being pounded on. Buffy and Spike will be keeping the minions off of you. Once Glory is being pounded, drop the illusion and help Spike and Buffy with the minions.

"I know the two of you don't like being regulated to the sidelines but you'll both have plenty of things to kill. Plus, if someone gets through and hurts the lovely witches, our plan gets shot straight to hell. Spike, if she sends in her crazy zombie people, trade places with Xander.

"Anya, don't argue. Xander will be close enough to trade places quickest. Xander, you and Anya will be here." he pointed to a spot on the map. "You 2 will have the grenade launcher. Xander, don't think about the math so hard. Figuring out these types of calculations is pretty much instinct for you.

"Joyce and Giles, the 2 of you will be here. Giles, remember, the rockets are point and shoot. What you are looking at is what you'll hit.

"And yes, Buffy, I'll let you play with whatever rockets are left over. These aren't going to be very effective against the lemmings. That's what the other things Caleb sent are for. Sam and I will be here. I'll fire the first shot. That'll be your signal. Pound the bitch with everything you've got. Any minions that get in the way will be blown apart, so this is going to get gory." Dean waited but there were no questions. Everything about the plan for the night had been gone over as well as they could. Plans were made for Glory's not showing up, and for her not to be physically connected to her vessel. Dean was skeptical about that though. She might be able to overcome the vessels physical appearance, but every possession he'd ever heard of had the demon dwelling within the body of the possessed. And he had read everything Sam had dug up on the hellbitch and it sounded like a straight forward possession to him. They had even made plans on who could shower where after the fight.

Sam handed out the launchers to those who would be using them and watched Joyce urge everyone into the correct car for the drive to the park. She really was an amazing lady, he thought. You never would have guessed that this was the first real fight she had been a part of.

With everyone loaded up and the small caravan headed for the correct position in the park, Dean was going over the contents of his pockets, making sure that he had what he needed to perform last rites if the vessel turned out to be human. He didn't want to condemn an innocent soul to hell and was glad that he had asked a priest he knew just what to do in the situation he found himself in. Performing this version of the last rites would free the person's soul from any taint of the demon, no matter how long they had been possessed. After that, it was up to God.

It was just after dusk, and Buffy only had to kill 2 vampires to clear out the area they were using as an ambush point. Dean went around checking to make sure that everyone was ready with what they needed. He did think it was odd that Willow would be supplying Tara with the power for the bait, but didn't ask any questions. It not only wasn't his place, but he really didn't want to be turned into a rat. Knowing that the ladies kept a pet rat that was really a person, had helped Dean to keep a lid on his mouth. Joyce was going over the instructions for the rockets under her breath and Dean reminded her that most supernatural creatures had very good hearing. She blushed and nodded and then went back to going over the instructions again, this time in her head. Anya was insisting on trying to make out with Xander while they were waiting. Dean put a stop to it and told her if she messed this up with her overactive sex drive he was going to ask the witches to turn her into a rat. Buffy and Spike smirked at him when they heard him telling off Anya, and gave him a thumbs up when he went to check on them. Sam merely nodded at him when he looked in his little brother's direction. The look Sam gave him promised him that this was one hell creature who would not survive the night.

Dean patted Tara on the shoulder and said simply, "Go." He then jogged back over to Sam. Once Tara started, it didn't take long. The minions came charging out of the building and Glory herself was not far behind them. Dean thought that perhaps she was getting a little desperate to get her hands on this Key. Buffy and Spike met the minions head on. It was hard for Dean to sit tight and watch the fight, but he had to. He had a part to play in the whole thing and it wasn't in dealing with minions. He did however appreciate for the first time what truly being a slayer was all about. Buffy moved like pure poetry, not that he read any. How she could make an all out chaotic fight for survival seem like a dance he didn't know. What he did see was that nothing managed to get past her or Spike.

Then Glory entered the firing area. Not so close that the witches would be in the line of fire, but close enough that all 3 shooters had a clear shot. Dean waited until Glory had reached the spot he had mentally marked. Then he squeezed Sam's shoulder. They had argued about who would man the rocket launcher, and Sam had won with the remark that Dean would be killing the vessel, he at least wanted a chance to pound on the hellgoddess too. Sam fired.

What followed was a terrible barrage of light, explosions and sounds. Minions tried to fling themselves between the rockets and granades, and Glory, but Spike and Buffy prevented most of them from doing so. However not all were so lucky, as they were blown to pieces rather than dying from broken necks and the like. Pieces and fluids from the minions coated everything in the visiting.

Finally Glory fell down and didn't get up. At that point, Sam fired flares at the other's positions and Dean ran for the place where Glory had fallen. When Dean reached her, she wasn't a female at all, but a young man in Glory's dress. Dean shot him in the stomach, to make sure that he wouldn't be able to survive if a minion got him away. Then he knelt down and began the last rites. With Sam standing over one shoulder and Buffy over the other he completed the ceremony and then drawing his pistol, shot him right between the eyes.

It was over. He stood up and walked away, leaving the surviving minions to clean up the mess the battle had made. As he did so, two cell phones were opened and the same message was sent. Glory's Dead.

John sat on the bed in his daughter's suite, listening to her stumble through a Latin exorcism when both of their cell phones rang. When they looked at them, they smiled at each other. It was time to go to Sunnydale.

The end


End file.
